Taking Care
by Arwen Lune
Summary: 'We're a team, we take care of eachother' - Hardison was the one who'd said it, but they had all nodded, like that was the most simple and natural thing in the world. Like it wasn't worrying and intimidating and terrifying and other words ending in -ing.


Note: Oh Gods, Parker speaks to me. What does that say about me?

**Taking Care**

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_'__We're a team, we take care of eachother'_

Hardison was the one who'd said it, but they had all nodded, like that was the most simple and natural thing in the world. Like it wasn't worrying and intimidating and terrifying and other words ending in -ing.

They took care of her. She'd never really known that before, never missed it, but she had a family now and they took care of her, in all sorts of ways, and she may not have the words to thank them, but she knew.

Sophie was always there in her ear if Parker needed to play a role in a con. Always ready to back her up, suggest words or moves... Parker knew interacting with people was not her strong point, but with Sophie's voice in her ear she'd been able to do things she'd never thought possible. And she hadn't even stabbed anyone with cutlery in months now.

Hardison was often her main contact during cons, the first person to talk to for assistance or change of plans or exists. She knew he would be sitting at his computer screen, drinking the weird orange drink that they all said she's not allowed to drink, closely following everything that's going on inside, looking out for her safety. She knew, because she'd spied on him a few times, that before a big job he spent endless amounts of time obsessively memorising the blueprints of the buildings she broke into. So he'd always have an answer, an exit, a safe place.

Eliot was the one with the most obvious protector role, but it wasn't just that. They'd teamed up dozens of times now, each time their roles meshing more comfortably. She slip-slided her way through the world, and he was at her back, solid and silent and always ready with whatever backup she required - whether it was the holding off of bad guys, a boost up to get somewhere high, distracting any women that might ruin their plans, or any number of clever tactical improvisations she didn't have the attention span or the focus for. Then sometimes after, when the rush of victory made her reckless, she knew he'd pace her through streets and bars. If that was to protect her from the world, or protect the world from her, she could never tell, but she liked it all the same.

Nate took care of them all in his plans, and though she knew he wasn't afraid to put them into harm's way, she also knew he planned obsessively to make sure he had ways to get them out of danger again. He used to joke about plan M, but she knew most jobs he planned all the way to Z. And she also knew that at least five of those contingency plans were about 'instances of Parker,' in case she should take it into her head to stab someone with a fork again. Sophie seemed to think that should offend her, but Parker knew she sometimes couldn't contain her impulses, and was glad Nate took that into account.

Yes, they all took care of her, and she wished there was something she could do in return, something that meant something - but she was no good at caring, didn't know how. She could steal things for them, but she had the feeling that didn't count as taking care. Even if it was stuff they really wanted.

"Turn around?" she said to Eliot, and inspected the back straps of his harness when he did so.

"This needs to be tighter," she muttered to herself, adjusting as she went. "Also, tie back your hair, you don't want it in the zipline."

She checked the buckles, wanting to hear the solid click that confirmed they were locked securely. This was a new harness she'd designed for him, after some pained expressions the first time she'd taken him rappelling. With his frequently bruised ribs it was essential to reduce pressure points anyway, so she'd widened and lowered the leg straps for a more seated position, given it a fixed, padded shoulder plate instead of straps (she knew he'd dislocated his right shoulder more than once. There was no way he would have told her that, so she was glad she'd snuck a look into his medical notes. Even though he would probably kill her if he knew that), and moved the waist belt down to be clear of his ribs. She hoped he'd find it more comfortable this time around.

_Perhaps I could get some more icepacks and make sure there are always lots in the freezer._ Would that count as caring? She hated that he often got hurt during the jobs, and hated even more that she couldn't ever manage to say the right thing.

Now she just needed to figure out what would be caring for the others. It could be as simple as supplying them with whiskey, shoes and candy and orange soda, but she had the feeling that for it to count as caring it couldn't quite be that simple. She would be the first to admit the ins and outs of this weren't among her strengths, but she was pretty sure that to count as caring, the action had to be good for the person.

Parker dismissed the thoughts and walked around Eliot to face him again, giving him a final visual check. The harness fitted snugly, but he looked comfortable enough. He'd tied back his hair and taken off his glasses. The kit bag he carried was slung over his shoulder and attached to the harness itself.

She did the same check on her own harness, much faster in its routine; straps-buckles-hair-gear. When she was satisfied, she put his karabiner on a descender, listening for the solid click of the locking snap, then put hers on the descender above it. She'd already double checked the line attachment before he'd even got up here.

"Good to go!"

He had been far from thrilled when plan G had come into effect and rappelling had become part of his job. She knew he had what he called 'a healthy aversion toward throwing himself off buildings,' but he flashed her a grin, and stepped into the depth of the elevator shaft with absolutely no hesitation.

The End


End file.
